


Chasing Ghosts

by seaofanxiety



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Past Character Death, Past Violence, ghost au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:43:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6868972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaofanxiety/pseuds/seaofanxiety
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>There's a ghost in Kuroo's house.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>A ghost with silver hair and oddly colored eyes.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>There's a ghost in Kuroo's house and he's determined to figure out why.</em>
  <br/>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is my first Bokuroo fic. They're like my favorite pairing in Haikyuu!! other than iwaoi, but the problem with shipping them seriously is that there is hardly any fic for them... I thought, _why not give it a shot?_  
>  please be gentle with me, i am a weak soul  
> with all that said, I hope there are some who do like it! always feel free to point something out in the comments, like any misspelled words, or incorrect sentence structuring, just lemme know!

He remembers the first time clearly, every detail hashed out in glorious technicolor that falls in complete contrast with how he remembers the second or third times. Maybe it has to do with the fear that had raced up his finger tips and clamped vice-like around his throat, or the surrealist quality that left him up for days afterward, but every minuscule second is remembered in a way that has never happened to him before. It confuses him as to why, because the first time he ever saw a ghost wasn't very interesting.

Kuroo had been sleeping, dreaming in disjointed colors and sounds, and then he wasn't sleeping. He was awake, eyes opening to the ceiling above him, adjusting to the soft light of the moon peeking from under a cloud. He doesn't remember what he was dreaming about, doesn't remember if it was a nightmare that woke him or a noise, he only knows that he was suddenly awake. He looks over to his bedroom door, thinking for a second of getting some water, when he sees a ghost for the first time in his life.

At first, he doesn't even realize that the boy standing at the edge of his bed is a _ghost_ , and not an actual boy who has broken into his room. What gives it away is that Kuroo can see his bookcase, which is directly behind the ghost, through the outline of a sweater. The transparency is the only giveaway, because everything else about the ghost is – well, _normal_ isn't a good word but it's the only word Kuroo can think of. The ghost boy stares at him with eyes the color of the moon, and just as Kuroo is about to open his mouth to speak – he disappears into thin air. Kuroo lays there for several long moments, his heart pounding in his throat like a runaway train and tries to process what he's just witnessed. It takes him a while to fall back asleep that night, the image of the ghost burned into his retinas like the light of the Sun when he's been staring at the sky too long.

 

* * *

 

 

Two long weeks pass by since he first saw the ghost, and no one ever talks about after on TV. They don't talk about what it's like to have doubt and to be unsure – and he _is_ unsure, spending long hours in the nights afterward staring at where the ghost stood, wondering if it actually happened. At the end of each night though, he knows that it was real, that he could have never imagined the color of the ghost's eyes or his face. He ends up drawing the ghost in his sketchbook, hiding it under other drawings, so that he can remember that it happened – that it was real. He goes to bed one night after finishing another sketch of moon-colored eyes, wondering if he'll ever get to see the ghost again and find out what it – _he_ – wanted.

It's early on a Saturday morning when he sees the ghost for the second time. The team’s practice had been canceled due to their coach and several other players being sick, so he’s been enjoying his day off. He's about to carry a bowl of cereal to the living room, and just as he turns he sees the ghost standing in the doorway. He's staring right at him, eyes dull in the fluorescent light of the kitchen and face shadowed. Kuroo gasps, a spike of fear hitting sharp and fast, and drops the bowl of cereal on the floor. It clatters, milk spilling all across the kitchen tiles – and the ghost jumps, eyes going wide, and disappears as if he'd never existed at all. His mother rushes in from her bedroom and gasps at the mess on the floor. She looks at Kuroo's face and asks, worried,

 “Kuroo, what happened?” Kuroo looks at her and then at the mess on the floor, shaking himself into focus.

 “I, uh, I thought I– um, it just slipped. It slipped from my hands, I'm sorry. I'll clean it up.” He manages to stutter out, deciding at the last second not to tell his mother about the ghost. She stares at him, studying his face for a long moment with worry and suspicion in equal measures.

 “Are you alright?” He looks at her, feigning confusion.

 “Yeah, mom, why?” Her brow furrows and she narrows her eyes at him. It takes all his will to keep his face blank under her scrutiny. She sighs after a moment and shrugs,

 “You look like you haven't been sleeping well lately, I suppose. You might drop my bowls less if you slept more instead of staying up all night.” He moves to get paper towels to clean it up, shrugging instead of replying, knowing that it'll only get her to lecture him if he does. His mother continues on, picking up the bowl and putting it in the sink, “I'd especially sleep better at night if you would stop speaking so loud at night. Honestly, Kuroo, I don't mind if you're talking to someone on the phone or your computer, or whatever – but I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't be so loud.” Kuroo freezes, turning his head over his shoulder to look up at his mother from where he's crouched down. He manages to choke out around the grip of cold realization,

 “Uh, sorry, I'll – I'll keep it down.” His mother smiles at him, nodding and walks out of the kitchen,

 “That's all I ask for.”

The information sits in his head like a stone as he sits in his room, teeth worrying at his bottom lip in a bad habit of his. His mother has been hearing someone talking at night, someone that sounded like him – or at least close enough that she’d assumed it was him. But it wasn’t him, so who was it? _Was it the ghost?_ What did he say? Who was he talking to at night? All of these questions burned through Kuroo’s mind, running tracks into his mind like a runaway train. It weighs heavily in the recesses of his mind as he ponders to himself, unsuccessfully trying to distract himself with homework.

 

* * *

 

 

When he wakes up in the middle of the night a week later, it’s a very different experience from the first two times he saw the ghost. This time, he doesn't see the ghost standing at the corner of his bed or the kitchen. He sees the ghost after he comes back from the bathroom, standing with his back to him at the window. The moonlight shines through him and Kuroo gets a long, clear look at him. He's shorter than Kuroo realized, and pale as snow – but that might just be because he’s a ghost – and hair as silver as his grandmother’s favorite dining set. It hangs in his face, covering his ears and sticks up just a bit in the back, the ends curling slightly upwards. He turns to stare at Kuroo with the same color eyes, deep and haunting. It's a long moment in which Kuroo tries to work up the courage to breathe when the ghost finally says,

 “You snore when you sleep.” Kuroo's so shocked that he can't help but blurt out as he jolts back a step, incredulous,

 “You watch me _sleep?_ ” The ghost's eyebrows furrow, as if he's confused. He makes a sort of grimace/pout at Kuroo and replies,

 “I'm a ghost, what else am I supposed to do?” He pauses and then blurts out, “I mean, I don't mean to, it's usually an accident.” He looks away sheepishly, and Kuroo swears that he blushes, though he doesn’t know how a ghost is able to blush. Kuroo stares at him, his mind ricocheting thoughts like _‘I’m having a conversation with a ghost!’_ around like a ping-pong ball. He closes his door behind him and sits down on his bed, face slack with the surreal quality of the moment. The ghost glances at him out of the corner of his eye, wary and confused. Kuroo snaps out of his reverie to eloquently say,

 “Um, I – it’s okay, it’s – uh, I’m Kuroo.” The ghost raises an eyebrow at him and smirks lightly,

 “Yeah, your name is Kuroo Tetsurou, I know.” He turns away but adds on, shyly, “Koutarou, my name’s Koutarou.” Kuroo runs a hand through his hair and rubs it down over his face, his sigh echoing around his room loudly.

 “So, uh,” He pauses, glancing at the ghost – Koutarou – out of the corner of his eyes. Koutarou is staring out through the window but he looks tense, hands fidgeting with the too long sleeves of his sweater in what seems like an odd nervous tic. “Is watching me sleep a hobby of yours or, like, a recent thing?” Koutarou the ghost boy scowls at him, whipping around to face Kuroo and visibly bristling as he replies,

 “You snore loud enough to wake the dead, I can’t be held responsible if I’m wondering whether or not there’s a bear squatting in this room!” Kuroo tries to reign in his laughter before it breaks loose as he responds, grinning,

 “Sorry I woke you with my snoring then.” Koutarou looks confused and then realizes what he’s said. He covers his mouth with his too long sleeves as he laughs quietly, spurring Kuroo into laughing more. “So did you live here before?” He adds after his laughter finally stops. Koutarou raises an eyebrow at him again, looking confused once more.

 “Before?” He says, his head tilting to the side. Kuroo nods, anxiously smoothing his hands over his quilt.

 “Before my mom and I moved here, like when you were alive?” “Oh, right,” Koutarou takes a few steps closer to Kuroo, away from the window, as he ponders over this question, head tilted to the side.

 “Um, I guess so?” Kuroo gives him a confused look.

 “You guess so? Do you remember living here?” Ghost boy Koutarou shrugs, fiddling with his sweater sleeves.

 “Not really but I think I probably did live here.” Kuroo stares at him, taking in how the moonlight shines through his feet, the way the window is visible behind him. He’s not entirely translucent though, it’s more like looking through a slightly dirty window, everything behind it foggy and warped.

 “Probably?” Koutarou turns his head away slightly, glancing at Kuroo through his hair.

 “Why else would I be stuck here if this wasn’t my house when I was alive?” Kuroo is the one who shrugs this time, glancing back. He thinks about asking his mother, she’d probably know for sure if something had happened here – though Kuroo sincerely doubts she’d keep a thing like that from him. At the thought of his mother, he remembers the conversation he’d had with her a week prior. He glances up at the ghost, Koutarou, who’s moved over towards the bookshelf, aimlessly running his hands through the objects on the nearest shelf.

 “Hey,” Kuroo says, and continues on when Koutarou looks at him, eyes wide and curious, “My mom said that she heard me talking at night, but it wasn’t me. Was it you?” He watches as Koutarou’s brows furrow and he looks away, his face suddenly blank as he replies in a quiet, curt tone,

 “No.” He pauses and glances at Kuroo before looking away again as he adds, “I’m leaving now.” Kuroo jumps up, his confusion and curiosity taking over his caution as he asks,

 “Wait! Where are you going?” Koutarou shrugs and glances at him one more time before giving him a small, sad but genuine smile as he says, ignoring his question almost entirely,

 “Goodnight Kuroo.” After that, he disappears completely, like he was never there in the first place. For some reason, it leaves an anxious knot in the pit of Kuroo’s stomach.


End file.
